


Quarantine

by Kalkasar (Mordhena)



Series: Chakotay/Paris Fiction Series [1]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Complete, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Season/Series 03, Season/Series 04, Sick Character, Sick Tom Paris, Sickfic, Voyager
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 00:52:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17735900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mordhena/pseuds/Kalkasar
Summary: A/N: I know I am posting this out of order having already posted Beloved Enemy, to which this story is a prequel of sorts, but both could stand alone and don't need to be read in sequence.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I know I am posting this out of order having already posted Beloved Enemy, to which this story is a prequel of sorts, but both could stand alone and don't need to be read in sequence.

Captain Kathryn Janeway sat in her command chair on the bridge of USS Voyager. She listened to the feed coming over the open com link. She was still battling herself over serious misgivings about having sent her two best officers into this situation.   
  
They had come across this new planet three days ago. Neelix had assured her to the best of his knowledge the planet was uninhabited, and pointed out that it may just have some deposits of useful minerals.   
  
Tuvok had confirmed that supposition when scans of the planet's surface revealed a rich source of Deuterium.   
  
Yet, something about this rankled. 

 _"We're just entering the area Tuvok found those readings in,"_ Chakotay's voice came to her, distant, reedy over the comlink. Janeway caught the hint of uneasiness and sat a little straighter in her seat.  
  
"What is it, Commander?"   
  
_"Captain,"_ he replied. _"Neither of us can pick up those readings on tricorders."_    
  
At the Tactical console Tuvok frowned and tapped a few controls. "I confirm the away team is in the correct sector of the planet, Captain." Tapping into the com system Tuvok spoke. "Commander Chakotay, try re modulating the frequency of the tricorders by three Hertz."   
  
_"Acknowledged."_ A pause. _"Nothing...."_     
  
Tuvok's eyebrows knitted as he processed that. He was about to reply when a piercing scream rent the air.   
  
_"Chakotay to Voyager! Get us out of here! Lieutenant Par...."_  The com signal cut off abruptly.   
  
"Harry!" Janeway was on her feet and standing by the Ensign's console before his name was fully past her lips.   
  
"I'm trying, ma'am!" Harry's voice was tense. "I can't get a lock on them."  

* * *

  
Chakotay rolled to his side and opened his eyes. Looking around gingerly. He felt for the place on his shoulder that ached with a nagging pain, trying to rub the place with his fingers to ease the hurt. He recoiled with a grunt of pain when something stung his fingers, the same pain that afflicted his right shoulder now began to creep along his left arm.   
  
Pushing through the haze of pain and confusion in his mind, he forced himself to raise up on an elbow. "Paris?" His voice sounded harsh and unfamiliar in his own ears. Raging thirst roughened his throat.   
  
Tom Paris lay on his back a short distance away, unnaturally still, his face tinged with an unnerving bluish color.   
  
"Paris?" Chakotay crawled painfully to the Pilot's side, pushing his own pain and fear to the back of his mind.   
  
Reaching for the tricorder that lay near Paris' hand, Chakotay scanned the officer. _Good, he's alive..._ Chakotay realized he was panting from lack of oxygen, the thought that he had been holding his breath surprising him. The tricorder readings indicated that Paris was running a high fever.   
  
Studying Tom's face, Chakotay frowned at the cyanosed lips. He held a hand in front of the pilot's face. The faint gust of air confirmed the tricorder's finding that Paris was breathing, but only just. Short, sharp gasps and he appeared to be having trouble exhaling.

Chakotay swore. Wincing with pain, he reached for the field medikit Tom carried and flipped it open. Selecting a hypospray, he pressed it to Paris' neck, releasing a mixture of cordrazine and dexalin into the Lieutenant's system.   
  
Tom moaned softly and rolled his head from side to side. His eyelids fluttered open and he looked around, his blue eyes clouded with pain and fear. "What...what happened?" he rasped, his voice gravelly.   
  
Chakotay coughed and reloaded the hypospray, discharging the contents against his own neck. "We were attacked." He glanced into the misty blue eyes for a second. "Can you walk? I think we should move away from this area as soon as possible."   
  
Tom drew a deep, wheezing breath and sat up slowly. "I'm not going to argue." He frowned trying to remember what had hit him. "Shit my neck feels like it's on fire...whatever hit us..I don't want to hang around for round two." He reached a hand to rub at the place, only to find his wrist caught in an iron grip. He raised his eyes to Chakotay's face, frowning slightly.   
  
"Trust me, you don't want to do that." Chakotay stared into Tom's eyes. When Paris offered no resistance he nodded and got up, pulling the younger man to his feet.   
  
Tapping his com-badge the First Officer spoke. "Chakotay to Voyager." When there was no response, he shook his head and turned to Tom. "We came from that direction," Chakotay nodded towards an opening that led into the clearing they stood in. "I am assuming there is some kind of EM interference. If we move away we may be able to contact Voyager to get us out of here." He started walking.   
  
"Fine." Tom stumbled along behind Chakotay, hardly caring which way they went or what the outcome was, as long as he could do something to take his mind off the thready fluttering of his heart and the dizziness. He was scared, but there was no way he would tell Chakotay that. Bowing his head and taking a deep breath, he concentrated on his feet, _Left, right, left, right...one foot in front of the other...we can do this..._

* * *

  
"I have them!" Kim's voice was a triumphant shout."Initiating transport, ma'am. Beaming them both directly to sick bay."   
  
Janeway gave an approving nod and patted Kim on the shoulder. "Well done, Ensign." Turning away she glanced at Tuvok, her eyes filled with the relief she wouldn't show to the rest of her bridge crew. "I'm going to sick bay, Commander. You have the Conn."   
  
Tuvok nodded.   
  
Kathryn stepped briskly through the sick bay doors, surprised when the EMH met her just inside.   
  
"I am afraid I cannot allow you to proceed any further, Captain," he said in his deadpan, mildly arrogant tones. "This area is under strict quarantine."   
  
"Quarantine?" Janeway's puzzlement showed in the angle of her head and the searching look she gave the holographic doctor.   
  
"Commander Chakotay and Lieutenant Paris have both been exposed to an unknown pathogen. I am attempting to identify it so that I can treat the infection more effectively. Until that time, they will have to remain in quarantine together."   
  
Janeway winced. Chakotay and Paris together in a confined space did not seem the most peaceable solution. However, she was not about to argue with the doctor. "Is it possible for me to speak with them?"   
  
"It will be once they have transferred to Commander Chakotay's quarters. They will not be allowed visitors, however, they will have access to the coms systems."   
  
Nodding acknowledgement, the Captain frowned. _Tom and Chakotay in quarters together...I hope the cure for whatever ails them is found before the blood bath occurs._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cordrazine is a stimulant used by Star Fleet medical personnel to support patients who have cardiac symptoms which indicate a danger of cardiac arrest. It is also sometimes used to resuscitate the deceased.  
> Dexalin is used by Starfleet Medical personnel to treat oxygen deprivation.  
> (Trioxin is also used, but is more commonly administered for acute lung tissue damage such as Janeway suffered in Year of Hell part II, but is not likely to be included in a field medic's kit as doctors prefer to repair the damage to lungs rather than treat the symptoms).
> 
> \--  
> I know too much about this stuff. I want to be a Star Fleet Doctor when I grow up :D


	2. Chapter 2

Tom Paris sat in the corner of a sofa, his knees drawn up to his chest and his chin resting on them. Occasionally, he cast a morose glance at Chakotay, seated cross legged on the floor, head bowed in meditation.   
  
_Does he never stop?_ Tom asked himself. _He's been sitting there for an hour now. Gods! how could anyone concentrate on being still for that long?_  He drew a deep breath and let it out on a sigh.   
  
Tom hated being confined. He hated being confined with the arrogant commander with a vengeance... _no! with a double vengeance! of all the god damned lousy fucking luck! why him? Why me?_ }  
  
He glared at the top of the Commander's bowed head and bit down hard on his tongue to keep from speaking. He'd tried _that_  already, and been tacitly ignored. Tom growled and looked away, out of the viewport to the stars. _How long have we gotta stay here? I want to get back to work, back to flying. Where I can forget about him and do what I do best.}_  
  
With another sigh, he searched his memory, trying to recall for the hundredth time exactly what had happened on the planet. He remembered walking behind Chakotay into a small clearing, listening the running conversation between the ship and the commander...trying without success to pick up the same readings Tuvok had found.   
  
Chakotay had ordered him to remodulate his tricorder and he did so...after that, everything was hazy. He recalled only fleeting images, a blur of motion a rush of wind accompanied by a feeling of the most extreme terror he'd ever felt. Something had struck him in the throat. He'd screamed clawing at whatever it was only to find his hand paralyzed by a powerful jolt of energy. Then....blackness and waking up with the commander kneeling beside him, panting and rummaging for medicines in the field medikit.   
  
"Lieutenant."   
  
The soft voice startled Tom out of his reverie and his head jerked around to find those dark brown, searching eyes staring into his.   
  
"Yeah?" Tom wouldn't give an inch.   
  
"I asked if you're feeling all right?" Chakotay studied him closely.   
  
"Oh, fine and dandy!"   
  
"Why don't you find yourself something to do?"   
  
"What I do, is not here to be found, Sir."   
  
"There must be something...read...or.."   
  
"Look! I'm fine! OK? just get off my case and let me alone!"   
  
"Fine..." Chakotay said softly. "I have heard willow trees in holoprograms sigh less than you have in the past hour."   
  
Paris rolled his eyes. "Yeah well, you've been really lively company too!"   
  
Chakotay shook his head and got up from the floor. "We're stuck with this, Tom. Whether you like it or not, you will have to get used to it. It's not like we have a lot of choices. I've tried to be pleasant, but if you prefer it this way I can ignore you a lot easier than you can ignore me."   
  
"I'm sorry if my way of coping with this doesn't meet with your approval, Commander! I'll try to do better. It's not like this is Sandrines or something! What am I supposed to do?"   
  
"Maybe if you got a little culture you wouldn't feel compelled to while away your time in a holodeck!"   
  
"Yeah and maybe if you got yourself a good fuck you wouldn't feel compelled to be so friggin tight assed all the time!" Tom was on his feet now as anger coursed through him.   
  
Chakotay turned to look at Tom, blinking in shock at the words he'd just heard. "I wouldn't have thought that to be any of your goddamned business!" The remark had struck deeper than Chakotay wanted to admit. He'd been alone for a long time.   
  
_Too damned long!_  He knew that many of his crewmates thought him arrogant and stuffy, it had never bothered him before. _Before now..._ he thought, staring at the blonde, blue eyed pilot who faced off to him from the other side of the room.   
  
"Whether it's my business or not, Commander, it's obvious. You reek of frustration...you ooze it out over everything you touch! You try so hard to be the super spiritual Chakotay with your medicine bundles and your meditation...but the fact is it just doesn't cut it, huh? You just can't admit to yourself that the only thing that will cure you is a bloody good..."   
  
Chakotay crossed the room in a few strides and stood face to face with Paris. "Stop! Stop it now, Lieutenant, or...."   
  
"Or what? You'll have me on report... again? You think that scares me?"   
  
Drawing a deep breath, Chakotay stared into Tom's eyes for a long moment before he replied.   
  
"I wouldn't do that. We're both under duress right now and this is not an ideal situation." He panted slightly, an effect of the infection he could feel raging in his body, causing the aches and sweating he'd experienced since the 'attack' on the planet.   
  
"I am willing to make allowances for the fact that neither of us is himself right now." He gritted his teeth as a paroxysm of pain ran through his left arm. S _pirits I hope the doc finds that cure soon!_  
  
"Oh, that's considerate of you." Tom felt a twinge of regret as he watched a trace of pain flicker in Chakotay's eyes and saw the almost unconscious action as the Commander rubbed his left arm. _God, Tom, ease up on him will ya? He's in no better shape than you!_  
  
The silence between them stretched to several seconds, before Chakotay turned away and walked over to the replicator. "Can I...get you a drink?"   
  
"Sure." Tom capitulated, feeling too achey and weak himself to continue the fight. Noting Chakotay's enquiring look he shrugged. "Oh just gimme whatever you're having."   
  
_"Sickbay to Commander Chakotay."_  The EMH's voice cut in.   
  
"Chakotay here, go ahead."   
  
_Commander, I am just making the first of the three hourly checkins I mentioned to you. What is your status?"_    
  
"We're holding up, Doctor. We have a few mild aches and pains. Amongst other things. Any word on a cure?"   
  
_"I have managed to isolate a gene in the particular strain of virus that has attacked you which I may be able to use as a carrier for a remedy, Commander. I expect to have reached a conclusion within the next 15 hours."_ The EMH sounded self statisfied.   
  
Tom groaned. _Fifteen hours!? I hafta be cooped up here with him for another day?_  
_"Is everything all right, Lieutenant Paris?"_  Obviously the holoprogram's aural receptors were functioning perfectly. _"I heard a sound? of distress?_ "  
  
"I'm fine, doc...just hurry up would you?"   
  
" _Lieutenant_ ," The EMH began indignantly. " _Such things as this take time. There is no possibility of me 'hurrying up' as you put it. To find a cure one needs to sort through..."_  
  
"All right...all right, Doctor!" Tom held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. "Don't worry about me, I'm just a little sore is all..."   
  
" _Lieutenant, if you are in pain, I believe I provided Commander Cha.."_  
  
Chakotay broke in on the EMH, seeing the exasperation mounting in his companion he spoke. "Yes, doctor, we have everything we need, thank you. Please keep us informed on your progress. Chakotay out." 


	3. Chapter 3

Chakotay turned over in bed, suddenly wide awake. He shivered with cold and a heavy sweat drenched his body. He coughed, wincing as a sharp pain stabbed through his chest. "Spirits..." he groaned aloud.   
  
The raging thirst he'd experienced on the planet's surface was back. He stumbled out of bed and made his way on shaky legs into the other room, intending to get a glass of water.   
  
As Chakotay walked into the room, Tom stirred, whimpering in his sleep.   
  
Chakotay stopped in his tracks glancing at the lieutenant. _Paris whimpering?_ It seemed so far removed from the daring, devil may care attitude the pilot displayed in his waking hours.   
  
Chakotay decided to check Tom's vital signs. He padded over to the sofa and hunkered down. Using the starlight through the window as his only source of illumintation, he studied the shadowed face. Tom was paler than usual, his skin a milky white, shadowed blue where the starlight didn't reach. Chakotay reached for the tricorder he'd left on a small table nearby and activated it. Running the instrument over Paris, he read the screen.   
  
Paris was running a fever again. Readings indicated increased heart rate, mild respiratory distress and increased brain activity. Chakotay laid the tricorder aside and picked up a hypospray, loaded with a cocktail of drugs the EMH deemed useful for treating the symptoms of the virus.   
  
"Paris..." Chakotay kept his voice low, not wanting to startle the sleeping man too badly.   
  
"Wha?" Tom almost jumped out of his skin, starting awake at the sound of his name. He looked around with unfocused blue eyes and recoiled when he saw a shadow looming over him. "No!" He pushed himself up along the sofa, using his heels as propulsion. "Get away from me!"   
  
"Paris!" Chakotay said urgently. "It's Chakotay....wake up! Computer, lights 20 percent."   
  
With a chirp from the computer the lights in the room came up to a comfortable level.   
  
"Shit!" Paris stopped trying to push himself off the end of the sofa and scooted forwards again until he was face to face with Chakotay. "For a former Maquis leader you haven't got a lot of sense have you?"   
  
Chakotay frowned. _He's determined to keep me at more than arms length._  He sighed to himself and held up the hypospray. "You're fevered. I was going to give you something to bring your temperature down."   
  
Tom pushed a hand through his hair. "Talk about kill or cure," he quipped. "You damn near scared me to death."   
  
"Now I know you're fevered!" Chakotay allowed himself a chuckle.   
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"   
  
"You admitted to being scared." Chakotay covered his amusement by pressing the hypo to Tom's neck and discharging it's contents. He winced a little at the heat that radiated from Tom's skin. _He's getting worse..._  He looked up and found fever bright blue eyes fixed on his face. Shadows lurking in the depths of them.   
  
Chakotay found himself wondering why he'd not noticed how Tom's eyes reflected so much, before now. "What's wrong?" he asked.   
  
"I was about to ask you that." Tom's said. "Why were you looking at me like that?"   
  
Chakotay stood up and walked to the replicator. "Do you want some water? I'm dying of thirst."   
  
"No, I want some answers." Tom got to his feet, swaying unsteadily. "I want to know why you..."   
  
"Take a seat, Lieutenant!" Chakotay barked the command, then softened his tone. "Sorry. I don't think you should be up and around right now."   
  
Paris sank back onto the sofa. "God, my head aches!" He shook it, wincing and then returned his gaze to Chakotay. "Why were you looking me like that? I've seen that look before, and the people it was directed at are... not here now. What gives, Commander..." he trailed off and swallowed heavily.   
  
Chakotay fetched a glass of water from the replicator and came back to squat in front of Paris.   
  
"I didn't mean to frighten you." he said, "I guess I am just wondering why you're taking a worse reaction to this thing than I am. But then, you did get a direct hit...I caught it second hand."   
  
Tom frowned. "That's something else. What exactly hit us down there? I can't remember."   
  
"I'm not sure I can shed much light on it. Whatever it was, it moved fast....I've never seen anything like it. I turned to look at you when you screamed and the creature had you by the throat. I commed the ship for transport and reached for my phaser. It looked at me, saw the weapon and was gone before I could fire.   
  
Chakotay bowed his head in thought. "I saw some kind of...device or...something on your neck and attempted to remove it...Before I could even touch it a surge of energy came from it and hit me in the shoulder....I don't remember anything from then until I came to."   
  
"What? Creature? Device? I'm not following..." Tom shook his head in confusion.   
  
"The doctor thinks the device was used to infect you....us with this viral disease. For what purpose we don't know. Germ warfare perhaps. But when we woke up the device was gone from your neck and you were in the throes of the illness. It seems to have hit you harder because you were the primary target."   
  
Nodding, Tom tried to assimilate the information. "So...what's going to happen now? I mean there's a cure isn't there?"   
  
"I don't know, Tom." Chakotay offered the glass of water. "Are you sure you won't have some of this?   
  
Paris stared into Chakotay's eyes in silence. He searched the Commander's face for a moment then he reached for the glass. "Thanks..." he drew several unsteady breaths as he fought for composure. "But .. don't call me Tom...it makes me nervous. Everyone does that with someone who's dying and I am **not** ready to die! Rank or surname will do fine."

"We're not going to let you die, Lieutenant."  
  
Watching him, Chakotay found himself wishing he knew how to connect with the pilot. That he was scared was obvious, but Chakotay had no idea how to get through the bravado to the frightened man underneath. He wanted to...Spirits! how he wanted to. He watched as Tom lifted the glass of water to his lips, sipped then put the glass down.   
  
"Gods I am sore all over." Paris muttered.   
  
Chakotay saw an opening and cautiously decided to take it. He reached for Paris' hand and began to gently massage it. Starting from the finger tips and working his way back to the palm, rubbing his way to the wrist and then beginning to massage the forearm.   
  
"What are you doing?" Tom's eyes were wary, unblinking, as he studied Chakotay's face intently.   
  
"I'm giving you a massage." The reply was matter of fact. Chakotay gently restrained Tom when he tried to pull away. "Relax. It will help to ease the aches."   
  
Inwardly, Tom cringed, watching Chakotay's face warily, but through long conditioning he forced himself to at least appear relaxed. He knew this scenario, had seen it many times before. Still, it shocked and confused him.  _Chakotay_? he thought, of all people on this ship he might have expected to pull this stuff on him, Chakotay was the last. Tom closed his eyes, drawing himself away somewhere inside of himself and determined to survive if it was the last thing he did.   
  
Chakotay felt Paris' muscles relax under his touch and sighed softly. He gently pushed Tom to lie down on the sofa as he continued his ministrations, slipping Tom's shirt off over his head in order to rub the younger man's body more effectively.   
  
Oblivious to the tortured thoughts going on behind Paris' outward calm, Chakotay continued to work, intent only on easing the pain. As he worked, he unconsciously he began to murmur a chant he'd learned in his childhood. His voice a soft, soothing accompaniment to his gently massaging fingers.

-   
  
Tom listened to the quiet, sing song voice. He didn't understand the words, but found them strangely soothing. He drew a deep breath and let it out with a sigh, beginning to truly relax as he felt the aches and pains recede a little.   
  
"What's that?" he asked quietly.   
  
"Hmm?" Chakotay glanced at Tom's face for a moment. "What's what?"   
  
"Those words...the song, whatever...what is it?"   
  
Chakotay smiled as he realized what he'd been doing. "It's a prayer. My people use it when someone is sick or troubled. We ask the spirits for healing and life." He paused. "It's almost second nature. Does it bother you?"   
  
"No. It's....soothing."   
  
"Good, it's meant to be." Chakotay nudged him gently indicating he should roll onto his belly. "Let me do your back.."   
  
Tom hesitated and Chakotay looked into his eyes. "What's wrong?" He noted the deepening shadows in Paris' eyes and frowned. "Paris?"   
  
"Uh, look, commander," Tom resorted to the standoffish mannerisms he employed on the bridge. "This is all very cosy and everything, but you...well, you don't have to be nice to me...I can take care of myself. _Besides why do you want to make nice to me anyway? What's the catch._  
  
Chakotay frowned, genuinely puzzled. "Nice to you? I don't quite get where you're coming from." He shook his head, confused by the sudden shift in Tom's mood. "I don't know what I did or said to make you feel threatened, I am only trying to help."   
  
"That's just it!" Paris sat up and brought his face close to Chakotay's "No-one ever helps anyone without expecting something in return. I learned that fast and I learned it hard in prison, Commander. You'll make nice to me and then when I am unsuspecting and vulnerable you'll demand your price! What'll it be Commander will I get away with giving _you_  a massage or do your tastes run to something more exotic?"   
  
"What!?" Dumfounded, Chakotay stared at Paris for what seemed like an hour before he finally found his voice. "What the hell do you think this is?" He stood up and pushed a hand through his hair. Padding on bare feet he moved to the door of his sleeping quarters then turned and came back. "That is probably one of the biggest insults I've ever received! How can you even begin to believe I would take advantage of this situation?"   
  
Tom blinked. He'd seen Chakotay angry before, but not like this. Taking refuge in the only thing he knew, he lashed back:   
  
"What was I supposed to think? I wake to find you bending over me in the middle of the night, staring into my face and calling my name! Gods! can I help it if instinct takes over? I've been in that kinda scene a hundred times easily!" He stood up. "Maybe you don't understand what it's like, Commander but I'll tell you something! When you live the kind of life I've had...you learn fast how to make people happy so you get out alive and unscathed!"   
  
Chakotay's jaw dropped. He drew a deep breath, searching for words. Sudden realization crashed in on him and his face softened from anger to faint compassion. _So that's it! That's why he does half of the stuff he does! It's survival instinct!_ He sighed. "Tom I...never knew, I-"   
  
"Why _would_ you know? Why would _anyone_? It's not something I go around advertising after all."

Rubbing at the back of his head Chakotay turned away. So much about Paris began to make sense all of a sudden and Chakotay was embarrassed to think of the hasty judgements he'd made. 

  
"Look..." Tom stepped forward. "I'm sorry for what I said, all right? It was just the natural assumption. Well, natural for me, at least. Let's just forget this and get some sleep, huh?" He sank back down on the sofa.   
  
"No." Chakotay turned to look at him. "I won't forget this. It's important. And I like to finish what I start." He walked back over to the sofa and knelt on the floor. "Lie down and let me rub your back for you...no strings. I give you my word."   
  
Tom stared at Chakotay in silence for a moment, then did as he was told. He had to admit the pain was getting worse. If Chakotay could soothe it as he had a few minutes ago Tom might at least be able to get some sleep. "OK," he said. "No strings." 


	4. Chapter 4

Tom felt like he was wrapped in cotton. Billowing waves of something white, cloyingly soft, and entirely impenetrable surrounded him. He pushed against it with one hand, it yielded but did not part. He turned, seeking a way out and his heart flooded with terror when he saw none. The same heart pounding, throat constricting terror that had gripped him on the planet, when "it" had come for him. He felt hot, uncomfortably so, and he knew he was dying.  
  
"Chakotay!" He called.   


* * *

  
Chakotay woke with a start and lifted his head from the pillow, something echoed in his mind, a sound. He waited for it to be repeated. _What was that?_  Chakotay trembled, feverish and achingly aware of every nerve ending in his body.   
  
"'kotay...?"   
  
Chakotay sat up and instantly regretted it as pain shot through his body and his head swam. He fell back on the bed, panting and trembling for several moments while he regathered himself.   
  
"Ch'kotay!" The voice, though still soft was filled with fear. "Help...help me!"   
  
_I have to get up...Spirits, help me!_    
  
Mustering all the strength he possessed, Chakotay dragged himself to his feet. Staggering, he walked to the living area. "Tom?" he looked toward's Paris, his head swimming, and leaned on a door post for support.   
  
The only response was a muted sob.   
  
Stumbling forward, Chakotay made his way to Paris' side and dropped to his knees. "Tom!" he rasped, his throat tortured by thirst.   
  
Paris lay on his back, eyes open and staring unfocused at some distant point above Chakotay's head. "Cha..." he managed.   
  
Suddenly the pilot was seized by a convulsion. His body went rigid, limbs jerking. He grimaced horribly, his eyes showing only the whites as they rolled back in his head, causing Chakotay to draw back instinctively from the sight as foam flecked with blood appeared on the younger man's lips.   
  
Fighting his own fear and weakness Chakotay leaned forward and gripped Tom's shoulders, holding him through the seizure so that he would not fall from the sofa and injure himself.   
  
At last it ended and Tom subsided, panting and trembling in Chakotay's grasp. His eyes rolled forward in his head again and he looked around fearfully.   
  
"Chakotay?" he whispered.   
  
"I'm here...I'm here, you're all right..." Chakotay murmured.   
  
Gripping Chakotay's arm with a surprisingly powerful hand, Tom pulled him close. "P-please...don't leave me alone!" he wept, tears running unashamedly from his eyes. "I d-don't want to die alone...please!"   
  
"You're not going to die!" Chakotay gripped both of Tom's shoulders and shook him lightly for emphasis. "You're not going to die, Paris! " he peered into the younger man's eyes, desperately trying to penetrate the fog he saw in them. "Paris! I'm ordering you to live...you hear me! That's an order, Lieutenant."   
  
For a moment, clarity shone from the crystal blue eyes as Tom met his gaze. "What..." he panted. "Trying to cancel ... your debt, Commander? Your life still belongs to me...this doesn't change that."   
  
Chakotay made a sound part way between a laugh and a choking sob.   
  
"Spirits! Don't you ever give up on that?" He looked at Tom's face, noting the beads of perspiration, the deathly pallor and his hands told him the extent of fever the Lieutenant was running, the heat of his body, even through his clothing was dangerously high.   
  
The clarity was short lived and Tom's eyes dulled, clouding, slipping away from Chakotay's face. "Tom..." Chakotay said. "You're burning up...I need to get some medicine for you..." he tried to gently extricate himself from the Pilots grip.   
  
"No! Please, Chakotay....I don't want to be alone...I'm afraid..."   
  
"Shh!" Chakotay squeezed Paris' shoulder. "I won't leave this room...I promise, but you need medicine, Tom."   
  
Paris shuddered, closing his eyes. "C-cold...so cold in here...can't you turn up the heat?" he shuddered, his teeth chattering and Chakotay's heart went cold with fear.   
  
He slapped his com badge. "Chakotay to sickbay!"  
  
" _Sickbay here_ ," The EMH's brisk tones replied. " _Go ahead, Commander._ "  
  
"Lieutenant Paris' condition has deteriorated. He is running a high fever and suffering convulsions. Further, I am in no condition myself to care for him. We _require_  transport to sickbay." 


	5. Chapter 5

Instead of the expected transport,  the EMH appeared at Chakotay's side. He leaned over Tom, scanning him with a medical tricorder, then glanced at the commander.   
  
"His condition is serious. You were right to inform me, Commander." He turned the tricroder on Chakotay next. "You should not be walking around in your condition. You must return to bed immediately."   
  
Chakotay offered no argument. He began to get to his feet.   
  
"NO...." Tom's voice was a desperate gasp."No..don't leave me here alone!"   
  
Looking at the EMH, Chakotay shrugged. "I can't leave him. He is afraid to be alone."   
  
"Very well." The EMH came to a decision. "Lieutenant Paris must be transferred into the same room as yourself, Commander. You need to rest and there is no way you can do that out here."   


  
  
Captain Janeway paced to and fro on the bridge. Her expression was thoughtful and she occasionally stroked her chin or lower lip as was her habit when pondering complex problems.   
She looked up at Tuvok at his tactical console and found his dark, thoughtful eyes fixed on her. Kathryn allowed a small smile to grace her lips.   
  
"Tuvok, please join me in my ready room."   
  
He nodded without speaking and followed his captain.   
  
"Tuvok..." Kathryn stood gazing through the viewport at the planet they still orbited. "Paris and Chakotay have both gotten worse. The EMH is no closer to finding a cure." She turned to him. "I am going down there. I need to know if there is something that can be done. Something we may discover to help them."   
  
"Given the current circumstances, Captain, I find that course questionable. However, it would seem to be one of very few options open to you at present."   
  
The captain nodded, her eyes troubled as she watched his impassive features. "I'll take Harry and B'Elanna with me and yes, I will be careful." She answered his unspoken caution and stepped forward to gently touch his cheek.   
  
Tuvok blinked slowly, his eyes watching her intently. In a gesture many would have missed he moved his head a fraction of an inch so that his cheek pressed into her palm for a brief moment before he took a step back.   
  
"I will advise Ensign Kim and Lieutenant Torres to prepare for an away mission, Captain." He turned on his heel and left the room.   
  
Kathryn watched him leave then turned to the viewport, gazing for long moments at the verdant planet below. Somewhere down there, was the answer to the disease affecting her two finest officers and she intended to find it. She drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she made her way out of the ready room.   
  
"Mr Tuvok, you have the Conn," she said as she crossed the bridge to the Turbolift and headed for Transporter room two.   
  
Harry and B'Elanna were waiting for the captain and stepped onto the transporter padd as soon as she entered the room. Kathryn nodded a greeting to them both, reading the worry in both their eyes.   
  
"We're going to find a cure. I won't let either of them die," she said reassuringly. "That's a promise."   
  
Harry let out his breath and nodded, his intelligent brown eyes reflecting his trust of the captain's word.   
  
"It is just good to be _doing_  something."B'Elanna said tersely.   
  
Casting B'Elanna a brief smile, Kathryn turned to the transporter chief. "Energize."   
  
The familiar tingling ran through her body and Kathryn closed her eyes for an instant, waiting for the momentary disorientation to pass. When it did, she opened her eyes and looked around, producing a tricorder with which she began to scan the area.   
  
"The area that Tom and Chakotay were in is this way, Captain." Harry said softly, indicating with a nod of his head.   
  
Turning in the direction he indicated, Janeway led her away team towards the clearing where the two officers had been attacked the day before.   
  
"Be alert, and keep your phasers handy," she ordered. "Look out for anything that might give us a..." Trailing off she stepped into the clearing and bent down, picking a metallic object from the ground.   
  
"B'Elanna...." she said, glancing into the sharp black eyes of her Engineer as the woman hunkered down beside her. "What do you make of this?" She held the small metallic disk out in the palm of her hand.   
  
Taking the small device from the Captain, B'Elanna turned it over, examining it from every angle. She was silent, following her usual habit of carefully forming a hypothesis before committing herself to words.   
  
Janeway could almost see the thought processes passing through the engineer's mind. She waited in silence.   
  
"I would need to make a more thorough analysis back aboard," B'Elanna said at length. "But on first examination it appears to be some kind of medical device. It has a similar mechanism to one of our hyposprays — just arranged in a differe...." She trailed off suddenly and dropped the device to the ground. "I would surmise that this is the device Chakotay mentioned seeing attached to Tom's neck, Captain."   
  
"You are very clever." An unfamiliar voice spoke from behind them and both women leaped to their feet.   
  
At the same time, Harry gave a warning shout from the edge of the clearing. He'd been lagging behind, making some analyses of tricorder readings and had only just entered the clearing in time to see the humanoid creature standing behind the captain and B'Elanna, however, by the time he called a warning they had already seen the alien.   
  
The creature was about the size of an average Terran male, standing around 6'2" and covered all over with a fine, golden fur. It wore a loin cloth and carried a small stick in one hand. It's face was bearded and the hair on it's head long and glossy. Janeway couldn't help thinking it resembled a lion in some respects.   
  
Janeway and Torres faced off to the creature, phasers drawn.   
  
"Don't come any closer." Janeway said softly. "We will defend ourselves."   
  
"Oh, please..." the alien smiled amiably. "I mean you no harm..but.." It looked at Harry. "Please take control of _that_."   
  
Janeway narrowed her eyes. "Control?"   
  
"Such creatures are not permitted to roam at large here." The alien replied. "It is a violation of our law, and punishable by death."   
  
Beside her, Kathryn heard B'Elanna gasp and laid a restraining hand on the engineer's arm. "At ease, Lieutenant." Looking at the Alien she smiled and said. "By any chance, do you know of two others like him who were wandering here yesterday?"   
  
"Yes." He nodded. "They were punished."   
  
Kathryn considered for a moment. "Those two...belong to me." she said, they are members of my crew. Both of them are very ill. Can you help me to cure the illness?"   
  
"That is not permitted! Judgement has been dispensed." The alien began to turn away.

Kathryn stepped forward. "Please..."   
  
"They will not suffer for long," he replied. "But I cannot assist you. It is against our law."   
  
Harry made an impetuous step forward and the alien whirled to face him, then looked to Janeway.   
  
"I warn you. Do not allow that creature to make any aggressive move towards myself or any of our people. The law is very clear on this!"   
  
"Harry!" Janeway gave him a quelling look and shook her head slightly.   
  
"Aye, Captain." Harry contented himself with glaring after the alien as it walked away into the surrounding forest.   
  
"And that's it!" B'Elanna demanded placing herself squarely in front of the captain. "We just let that creature walk away from here..and do _nothing_  to stop him? We just let Tom and Chakotay die...like..like ...dogs caught ..."   
  
"B'Elanna, enough." Janeway held up a hand for silence. "I know this is difficult. I don't like it anymore than you but we owe it to Tom and Chakotay to stay calm and decide how to handle this rationally. _Tuvok is rubbing off on me,_  she thought.   
  
B'Elanna bowed her head, breathing raggedly as she fought to control the Klingon side of her nature.   
  
"Yes, Captain." She spoke in a more subdued tone.   
  
Kathryn nodded and bent to pick up the device they'd found earlier. Slipping it into a small container she carried, she tapped her combadge. "Janeway to Voyager, three to beam up." 


	6. Chapter 6

Chakotay stirred, his head pounding.The ever-present thirst plagued him, his throat burned, his eyes watered incessantly. Every bone in his body felt broken. He moaned, attempting to roll to his side and stopped when he became aware of a weight on his shoulder, pinning him down.   
  
For an instant, he was back on the planet. Pain rifled through him. His heart pounded. Near panic. He drew a deep breath, reaching a hand to feel what he was afraid to look for and grunted with surprise when his fingers encountered a mass of sweat dampened curls.   
  
_Tom!_  Chakotay was instantly wide awake, his heart racing again at the incredible heat that met his fingers. He opened his eyes, turning to look at the face of the Pilot.

Paris was unconscious. Eyes open and glazed, mouth slack, hanging open, spittle dribbled from the corner of his lips, his face was an horrific mask of near death rictus. He drew a harsh, gurgling breath as Chakotay stared down at him.   
  
"TOM!" Chakotay struggled up and shook Paris hard "TOM!"   


* * *

  
In the sickbay, Captain Janeway watched as the EMH examined the object the away team had discovered on the planet. The captain was increasingly aware of the amount of time that had passed and the words of the alien who'd said that said the death of her two officers would be quick.   
  
"Doctor, what can you tell me about this?"   
  
For a program that did not need to breathe, the EMH performed what very closely approached a sigh. "Captain, this is undoubtedly some kind of medical instrument. I concur with Lieutenant Torres' theory that this is indeed the device Commander Chakotay saw attached to Lieutenant Paris' throat. I have run DNA scans on it. It shows traces of both Lieutenant Paris's DNA and that of the virus."   
  
Janeway nodded. "Well, that is as we expected."

"The good news is that the virus would appear to be transmitted via direct blood contact." The EMH smiled slightly. "Given that knowledge, I see no reason to keep Commander Chakotay and the Lieutenant isolated. In fact..."

"That's all very well, Doctor," Janeway waved him to silence.  "Are you any closer to a cur..." She was cut off by Chakotay's voice over the comm system.  
  
_"Help me! Oh Spirits! please....he's dying!_  The agony in those words, caused Katherine to wince, her eyes turning to those of the holographic ship's doctor.   
  
"I am on my way, Commander! Computer, transfer the emergency medical holographic program to Commander Chakotay's personal quarters." The EMH snatched up a medikit, nodded briefly to Janeway and vanished into thin air.  
  
Chakotay knelt on the bed, cradling Tom's head in his arms. He looked up with eyes full of desperation as the EMH appeared. "Please, Doctor...do something...he's almost gone!" His normally strong, steady voice shook with emotion and he trembled with a mixture of chill and fear.   
  
Tom was deathly still, barely breathing. Chakotay was terrified to let go of him lest, by losing that contact, Tom lost his tenuous hold on life.   
  
Chakotay looked down at the unresponsive face, sobbing as tears fell unashamedly from his eyes and landed on Tom's cheeks.   
  
"Tom..." he whispered the name, little realizing, or caring that his voice was filled with a tender appeal that no-one, save B'Elanna, had ever heard him use. Unthinking, pressed his lips to Tom's pale, sweated forehead. "Tom.....please...hold on."   
  
"Commander, how long has he been like this?" The EMH was too pragmatic to take any notice of the unaccustomed display of affection from the first officer for a man that heretofore had been treated with cold respect and firm command. He moved to the side of the bed and bent down to examine Tom as he simultaneously scanned him with a tricorder.   
  
"I...don't know." Chakotay shook his head. "I woke up just now and he was lying here..." He choked. "Please...do something! Don't let him die!"   
  
Nodding, the EMH read the results on the tricorder screen. "His condition is critical, Commander. I am closer to finding a way to treat this illness, but not as close as I would prefer to be." The holoprogram paused, tipping his head to one side. "Lieutenant Paris, can you hear me?"   
  
Chakotay stared down at Tom's still form. The pilot made no response to the EMH.

Chakotay frowned, glancing from Tom's face to the Doctor and back again.  _I_   _am afraid of losing him._  Just a few days ago, he would have laughed at such a thought, but now it was not funny, it was agonizingly, serious. Tom was dying, and Chakotay was only just beginning to realize what that would mean to him!   
  
"Commander, I am going to transfer the lieutenant to sickbay. His condition has gone beyond the ability to effectively treat him here. One thing I have established from my research is that this virus is not a danger to the rest of the crew. It appears to be transmitted by direct blood contact."   
  
Chakotay nodded, barely hearing the doctor's voice past the roaring in his ears, his own blood pounding as he verged on panic, he focused on Tom's face. "I will go with him." His tone brooked no argument.   
  
"Of Course, Commander." The EMH hit his combadge and requested emergency medical transport for Chakotay and Paris to the sickbay, vanishing himself a moment after the transporter beam enveloped and removed the two officers from the room. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chakotay sat beside Tom's bio bed in the sickbay, clinging to the pilot's hand, staring into his face, hoping for something, a flicker, anything that would tell him Tom was going to be all right. He scanned the faces of the doctor, Kes, anyone who came near, for signs of hope and found little comfort.   
  
"Tom..." he spoke softly. "I'm so sorry you had to get into this....I wish it had been me that took the worst of it." Chakotay still marvelled at how much less affected he was than Paris. The doctor was at a loss to explain it either. They were both infected, yet Tom was the one it had hit hardest. The doctor's opinion was that they should both be very ill.   
  
Earlier, the EMH had taken blood samples from Chaklotay, hoping to discover why he was not as ill as Tom. Now they awaited those results, hoping against hope that something might turn up that would help Tom.   
  
Chakotay sighed, rubbing the back of Tom's hand with his thumb. "Please, Tom...fight...hold on I..." He trailed off. _I couldn't bear to face your death._  Shaking his head, Chakotay leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the side of the bed. _What is happening to me?_ A moment later he sat bolt upright, staring fixedly at Tom's face. "Tom?" He could have sworn he had heard...   
  
Paris moaned, his eyelids flickering as he struggled to open his eyes. "Water..." An almost inhuman croak. "Thirsty..."   
  
"Tom!" Chakotay was on his feet in an instant, pouring water into a glass with a hand that shook so badly that he poured more of it onto the table than into the glass. Turning to the young pilot, he lifted Tom's head with one hand and pressed the glass to his parched lips. "Drink...easy now...slow..."   
  
Sipping the water, Tom forced it down his tortured throat and gasped with pain, forcing his eyes open, he tried to focus on Chakotays' face. "I...told you...don't call me....Tom."   
  
Chakotay almost wept with relief. "All right, Paris..." Pressing the glass against Tom's lips again. "More...slowly..." he watched as more precious water trickled between Tom's lips. "Good...that's good." He smiled, his firm sensuous mouth curving in a small bow of approval. "How do you feel?"   
  
"Like shit," was the terse reply. "But I not as hot as before."   
  
"The doctor managed to bring the fever down." Chakotay nodded, unable to suppress a smile at the pilot's self-assessment.   
  
"How about you?" Toms voice was still roughened by thirst and pain. "How're you doin', Commander?" His foggy blue eyes studied Chakotay's face for a moment, the slight unfocused expression a result of drugs in his system.   
  
"I am a little sore, but the virus does not seem to affect me the way it affects you. We still don't know why as yet."   
  
Tom sighed and nodded a little, wincing with pain. "Huh. Probably just my lousy luck. The same as..."   
  
"The same as what?" Chakotay tipped his head slightly to one side, Watching Tom's face quizzically.   
  
"The same as it's my rotten luck to get you alone, in the same room, in the same _bed_  and be too friggin' sick to do anything about it!" He grinned cheekily and eased his position on the bed.   
  
Chakotay almost dropped the glass. Blinking rapidly a few times. He set the glass on the side table, staring at it for a moment to hide his expression. "Tom...I..." he didn't know what to say, his tongue seemed to be tied in knots. He turned to face Paris, smiling a little. "I..."   
  
"Yes, Commander?" The voice, though weakened by fever and illness held that same silky tone Chakotay had heard employed with members of the opposite sex. Chakotay had to wonder if Tom really knew what he was saying, or if this was all just a part of doing what Tom thought Chakotay expected of him.   
  
He put a hand on Tom's shoulder and looked into his eyes. "I think you should get some rest."   
  
"I don't need to rest." An edge of irritation crept into Paris' voice. "Why am I in sickbay? I thought we were under quarantine?"   
  
"We were. However, that is no longer necessary...the virus is transmitted by direct blood contact. We pose no threat to the crew."   
  
Paris closed his eyes. "That's a relief at least." He was silent for some time, then, "Chakotay?"   
  
"What is it, Paris?"   
  
"I'm going to die, aren't I?"   
  
"No!" the denial was swift, too swift, and far too emphatic. Chakotay knew it, and he could tell by looking at Tom, he knew it too. "No...not if we can help it. The EMH is working non stop on finding a cure. You just have to hold on, Paris." He wanted to add 'please', but it wouldn't come. Chakotay bowed his head, averting his eyes from the searching blue gaze that met his.   
  
"Yes, Sir."   
  
Tom turned his head away, falling silent, and Chakotay sensed the barrier that had suddenly arisen between them again. He wished he could get beyond it, back to the easy warmth of just a moment ago.   
  
"Paris..." Chakotay fumbled for words, something inside of him ached, something indefinable, something precious. He stared down at the younger man, studying the play of emotion on the other mans face. Strange how he had never noticed it before. He'd thought that Tom was just an arrogant, soulless, and heartless womanizer, but watching him now, he found he could read every subtle nuance of feeling that passed though Tom. He found himself wondering why...Why now? Why this moment and not any one of the hundreds of previous moments should be the one in which he discovered the vulnerable man beneath the facade.   
  
"Paris..." He tried again when Tom didn't respond.   
  
"Chakotay." Tom opened his eyes and turned his head, looking into the commander's eyes.   
  
"Commander!" The EMH bustled over to Tom's bedside, a look of import on his face as he approached Chakotay.   
  
Turning to look at the doctor, Chakotay raised an inquiring eyebrow."Yes, doctor?"   
  
"I have the results of those blood scans." The EMH sounded more smug and self satisfied than usual. "And it seems my theory was correct. Your body is making antibodies against this virus. You are, in fact, building an immune response."   
  
Chakotay studied the doctor's face for a moment. "What does that mean?"   
  
"I believe it may be possible to create a cure, using the antibodies you are producing, Commander."   
  
"Do it!" Chakotay said. "I will assist you in any way possible." 


	8. Chapter 8

Tom sat on the biobed, watching the Holodoc's face as he scanned him for the 'nth' time with the tricorder.   
  
"Honest, Doc, I feel fine. Please, can I go now?"   
  
The doctor stoically read the results on the small screen, not replying to Tom, intent on his own tasks.   
  
"Doctor?" Chakotay chimed in, standing by the foot of the bed.   
  
"Well, this is very impressive, Lieutenant." The doctor finally looked at Paris. "Your system has responded very well to the medication. I see no reason why you should remain here."   
  
"Yes!" Tom slipped to the floor on his feet and stood a little unsteadily. Two days ago, the EMH had administered the experimental medication he had formulated using antibodies from Chakotay's blood. Although Tom was still somewhat pale, and a little thinner than he'd been before, his appearance betrayed no other sign of his recent brush with death, in fact, his recovery had astounded them all especially the Doctor and Chakotay.   
  
Chakotay stepped forward, wincing a little, he was still stiff and sore. He laid a hand on Tom's arm. "Let me help you."   
  
Looking up at the commander, Paris smiled. "Sure...I guess I can cope with that." His voice held a softness not present in their interactions prior to the illness.   
  
Chakotay glanced sharply at Tom, searching the dark blue eyes for a moment then smiled and stepped forward. "C'mon, Wings....let's get you home."   
  
"Wings?" Tom couldn't suppress a chuckle at the Commander's use of a nickname. "Wings?"   
  
Chakotay smiled and shot him a sidelong glance. "That's a common nickname for pilots in those history books you like so much," he said as they stepped out of the sickbay and walked towards a turbolift.   
  
Tom was content to remain silent as Chakotay escorted him with the greatest care back to his own quarters. Once they arrived at his door, he stopped and looked up at the commander.  
"Would you...like to come in?" The invitation was tentative, Tom being unsure of exactly what his standing with Chakotay was anymore. He watched the handsome older man quietly.   
  
"Yes, I would like to." Chakotay replied, smiling a little at the half smothered look of delight on Tom's face. _I can read you like a book, Paris. Weird as that may seem...I almost sense what you are thinking or feeling before it shows on your face....so strange..._    
  
Tom turned away, entering the code to open the door then stepped into the room. "Welcome to my humble abode," he spoke as though ushering someone into a palace, waving an expansive hand at the room. "Please, make yourself at home!"   
  
Chakotay's eyes swept over the room, noting the absolute lack of anything that would mark the place as truly belonging to anyone. It was practically bare. No hangings on the walls, no personal belongings lying about, nothing, apart from a few PADDS on a desk on one side of the living area and one or two small artifacts Tom had collected on visits to this or that planet.   
  
On a small table near the viewport stood a replica of a ship. Chakotay decided it must be holographic because it turned slowly, showing the lines of the vessel from every angle, complete with the hull lights and insignia, but from this distance, Chakotay couldn't make out the name of the vessel.

"That's the USS Halimede," Tom Said. "The ship I wanted to serve on if I'd joined the SFMC*."

Chakotay returned his gaze to Tom and found the young Pilot watching him, his expression a mixture of pride and something indefinable. 

"I'm sorry you never got that chance. You would be a credit to them ..." 

Tom shrugged. "I'm happy enough here. My quarters are a bit plain. I guess they can't help but be plain. I didn't have much with me when I was thrown in prison...I had less when I came out." His tone was almost defensive and his blue eyes were cold and hard.   
  
"Hey...take it easy." Chakotay smiled and took a step further into the room. "As long as you feel comfortable here, it's fine."   
  
Tom sighed, relaxing. He walked towards the cooler. "Can I offer you a drink?"   
  
"Sure, whatever you're having will be fine." Chakotay picked up one of the PADDS off the table, activating it and scanning it's contents. A history book, the one thing Tom showed any passion for aside from flying. He smiled and laid it down again, meeting the crystal blue eyes of the Helmsman as Tom handed him a shot glass containing a small measure of whiskey.   
  
"I figured we can indulge. We're not on duty."   
  
Chakotay nodded and took the glass to his lips, sipping lightly as he watched Paris over the rim. _Spirits, he is so beautiful!_  Swallowing the fiery liquid, he lowered the glass and smiled. "You must've paid a fortune in replicator rations for this.   
  
"My one small luxury." Tom smacked passed his tongue across his bottom lip.   
  
Chakotay stood transfixed, his every nerve and sense suddenly riveted to that soft mouth, he knew he was staring and yet, there was not a single thing he could do about it. He watched Tom's tongue trail across his lip and his own lips parted a little in response. Setting his glass down on the table he looked into Paris' eyes. "Tom..." His voice seemed to catch halfway out of his mouth and the name was a soft, husky rasp of desire. Chakotay bit his lip.   
  
"Chakotay..." Tom raised his eyes to the Commander's face, fully realizing the state the older man was in. He smiled, the expression mildly triumphant, and very deliberately licked his lips again.   
  
It was too much, Chakotay stepped forward and caught Tom in his arms, pulling him close and crushing those soft lips under his own.   
  
Tom gasped then moaned, parting his lips as Chakotay's mouth captured his in a searing kiss. He let the empty shot glass drop from his fingers to the carpeted floor, pressing closer to the Commander's hardened, muscular body, kissing him back with answering heat.   
  
Moaning at Tom's response, Chakotay pulled him closer, crushing the long lean body to his own and sucking Tom's lower lip into his mouth, nibbling gently then released it and thrust his tongue into the younger man's eager mouth, exploring him, tasting him and liking what he found. A lot.   
  
After a moment he tore his mouth away from Tom's with an effort, and began to kiss his face, his forehead, his eyelids, cheeks, chin and finally returned to plunder that sweet, responsive mouth again, deepening in passion and intensity until his head reeled.   
  
Tom groaned, his knees almost buckling under the passionate, tender assault on his mouth and senses, he put his arms around Chakotay's neck, reaching up to tangle his fingers in the older man's hair for a moment then letting his hands roam down to Chakotays shoulders and on down to his chest, pressing against the muscles he could feel rippling under the Commander's shirt. He let his slim fingers explore a little, caressing the man through the fabric of his off-duty tunic, eyes closed to heighten the sense of touch as he let Chakotay take what he wanted of his mouth and tongue.   
  
Chakotay growled, deep in his throat, enjoying the touch of Tom's hands on his body and wanting more, he released Tom's mouth for a moment and burned a trail of little kisses across his cheek to his earlobe, taking it in his mouth and suckling gently as he ran his hands down Tom's back until they found the pilot's butt pressing him forward so that their bodies were locked together at the hip. He could feel Tom's response to him and he smiled, raising his head to grin lazily into the younger man's eyes.   
  
Tom smiled back, looking deep into the dark eyes that met his own. "You've changed."   
  
"Yes. So have you." Chakotay returned Tom's steady gaze. "I think neither of us will be the same again....from now on." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Star Fleet Marine Cops


End file.
